


Made Anew

by aleela



Category: VIXX
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Smut, hongbin calls wonshik a cat at one point, rlly its just a short sex scene thats all it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14581428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleela/pseuds/aleela
Summary: The hand that was not fisted in the sheets was moving up a muscular back, the skin smooth and soft, a direct opposite of the way Wonshik was biting at his neck and shoulders, leaving behind purple and blue bruises, as a reminder that he was here, that he was with him, that they were together, tonight for real.





	Made Anew

**Author's Note:**

> hello, thank you for giving this fic a chance!
> 
> i don't think there's anything to warn about, except for sex, but i'm guessing that's why you even clicked on this sooo
> 
> i am rlly bad at dialogue, so i decided to not write it at all? lmfao
> 
> also, pls let me know if it was bad so i can just stop writing smut (it isn't my first, but it's a first i'm posting in a loooooong time); kudos and comments are greatly appreciated <3
> 
> -ela

It started out as it always does, with a soft kiss on the cheek after a long work day and a few hours of pretending they didn’t want to jump each other’s bones, because such is the nature of their relationship.

Even after years and years of being together, they still felt that incessant need to wait out the other, to wait for one of them to break and admit defeat in, an admittedly, incredibly stupid game.

They got dinner just like every day, and they cleaned the dishes just like every day, and they sat down together to catch up on the latest episodes of the reality shows they missed in the past few days.

Their friends would call them domestic. But Hongbin didn’t really like the word, what with the mocking tilt of Jaehwan’s head and Taekwoon’s smirk when Hakyeon would say it.

He liked to think of it as a well thought out routine. That didn’t have to mean they were acting like a married couple, which the word _domestic_ always brought to his mind. He wasn’t really one for marriage at all; his parents divorced after they had him, Wonshik didn’t even have any.

For him, what they had was less of a domestic partnership, and more of a kind of loving relationship only two people who’ve known each other since childhood had. Other times, he just felt like he was living with an oversized, and far too energetic, cat.

Marriage was a liability in his head. A paper couldn’t prove his love for someone and never will. It’s not like you had to marry your friends to show them you loved them. It was, essentially, the same thing. Different kind of love, but same meaning.

He knew the path Wonshik’s hand was going to make, even before it started to climb up the underside of his leg, up his calf and further until it touched the inner side of his thighs.

He threw a look his way, which clearly stated “ _I win_.”

He always won; Wonshik was too mellow to wait (or too horny) and bad at games.

He turned the TV off, turning to leave the remote on the backrest of the couch on Wonshik’s right side and at the same time put his leg over his lap, successfully throwing his hand off its path.

He placed a tiny kiss on his cheekbone, barely a press of lips against skin and Wonshik’s hands travelled from their place on his hips, holding him steady, and under his shirt, rubbing circles and shapes into his back.

They kissed once, and pulled back together. Wonshik murmured something into his mouth, which turned out to be a litany of “I love you”s. Hongbin allowed himself to listen to those words for a few seconds, before diving in and kissing him passionately, breaking him down and down lower.

They kissed for some time, before Wonshik’s traitorous hands started taking both their clothes off, and they moved to the bedroom.

The silk sheets felt like a breath of fresh air against his naked skin, the stark difference between the dark red of the cloth and his own milky white skin reminded him of drops of blood on the white of snow.

One of his hands fisted above his head in the softness, while his mouth opened on a whisper, and a soft moan came out, the only melodic sound in the enormous room alongside skin hitting skin.

He was forever grateful for the big windows at the side of the bed for cooling the temperature, and currently letting in the moon’s shine and fresh night air, the only light in the otherwise swallowed by the dark room.

The hand that was not fisted in the sheets was moving up a muscular back, the skin smooth and soft, a direct opposite of the way Wonshik was biting at his neck and shoulders, leaving behind purple and blue bruises, as a reminder that he was here, that he was with him, that they were together, tonight for real.

Another moan ripped through his body, from deep inside his core, as Wonshik pushed his legs apart and brought one of his hands up his thigh and down back to the unmarred skin on the underside of his knee, not gentle but rough; still welcome and always wanted. The other hand was carding softly through his hair.

They seemed to be made out of opposites, and their whole life revolved around it. Their laughs, while one’s was always soft and quiet, the other’s so loud but always fresh, like spring dew.

The way they slotted together, in bed, and out of it. Like perfect puzzle pieces, one’s fullness always filling in the other’s emptiness.

It was that way with them forever and always, since the beginning of times, since the atoms came together and divided again, and again, and again. Like them, like crashing waves against the stone shore. Sometimes harder and other times as soft as the fall of rose petals on green grass, shining brightly under the sun.

They could never get enough of one another. They always took whatever each had to give. They gave and they took. And they gave together, and they took together, since the beginning of all.

Staccato moans filled the room anew, along with the harsher sound of skin clashing skin, laboured breathing and the rustle of silk. He sank his nails into Wonshik’s back, and pulled down, leaving angry red marks that would disappear within seconds. His hands travelled downwards, touching and destroying everything in their path.

As much as Hongbin was ruining him, he was ruining himself at the same time.

Wonshik pulled him into a kiss – a hard, bruising one – their teeth clashing a bit with every movement of their lower bodies, with every push up and pull down.

He kept shivering, the cold finally setting in. The creepy quality of the moon’s light falling only on them in the room enclosed in darkness escaped him for the euphoria that was taking his mind and body slowly apart.

The tightening in Hongbin’s gut came out of nowhere, unexpected but welcome as he gave into it. A shudder went over his body, his toes clenching and his legs squeezing around his back.

He was thoroughly fucked out, lying almost motionless as Wonshik pounded into him still. His legs falling even more open on their own accord, letting go of the tight grip they had.

Both hands came up to Wonshik’s hair, holding him as if holding a fragile china doll, patting his cheeks, and mouth leaving wet kisses on his cheekbones and temples, and everywhere he could reach.

Wonshik didn’t move away even as he finished, the wetness between his legs making him both disgusted and disturbingly proud. He lay on his chest, catching his breath and kissing him softly.

Wonshik rolled over, but stayed close, almost stuck like glue to his side. The hand that wasn’t carding through his hair was making a path down his chest. He didn’t manage to close his legs fast enough, before his fingers were inside him. Still sensitive, he shuddered and made a half assed attempt to push his hand away, but he liked the sole feeling of having something inside him, be it a dick, or fingers or his come.

A hard fuck after a hard day was sometimes the only thing they could do together.

Despite that, everything about them was soft – they were that obnoxiously happy couple. Even when they fought; it lasted for mere hours before they inevitably came together again. The way they spoke when they were together and the way they traded kisses, sometimes even the way they fucked, all of it was soft and kind.

Because maybe that was the real truth on the nature of their relationship.

They were made together, and made anew each lifetime, and they were together until the end of time.


End file.
